In my experience, the one thing that one must learn before anything else at all is to love without wanting. To look at a flower blooming from within the cracks of broken cement while you take your evening stroll down a familiar street, but resist the urge to pluck it. To watch an ember sunset, streaked with all hues of red and orange and pink as if spatters on a canvas, and not try to capture it for once.
To enjoy a piece of music whilst sitting in a café in the middle of winter as it snows outside, and to not ask anyone what it is called, and to promise to never search for it. To find an animal grazing and playing in a field, but to curb the spontaneous want of putting it on a leash to bring it home, expecting it to play with you as it was in the field it called its own.
To find a friend and to not ask them to conform to a certain ideal or to act a certain way or to say a certain thing, but being a watchful and excited spectator to their spectacular journey filled with mountains and trenches. To run into another person by happenstance, someone so alluring and charming and calming to you that even a simple thought about them clears any wrinkles of worry that bother you, and to still not desire them as your own.
When you loved something without wanting, you went beyond desiring a masterpiece for your hall, you went beyond an arrangement in your vase, and you went beyond a record playing endlessly. You learnt experiencing something so enthralling, you realised you didn’t deserve, by any rights, to own it, whatever it may be, and that it was a blessing in disguise, friend of mine.
Countless have lost themselves trying to capture infinities. You wouldn’t be the first, and you wouldn’t be the last, and trust me, you would fail, like all before you, and all after.